Fifteen Columbine – Desertion
Fifteen
Columbine – Desertion
After Ant and Dec’s revelation about the flowers, and the story of how they met, we all suddenly realise what the time is.
Ant and Dec rush back to the bakery to see if Neil their Saturday boy has coped in their absence, while Amber and I get ready to open the doors to our first customer.
‘What are you doing?’ I ask as Amber begins tying some white floristry ribbon across the shop doorway.
‘It’s for you to do the official opening,’ she says, tying one end with a fancy bow.
‘What official opening? I thought we were just opening the door at ten?’
‘Poppy, you can’t let a significant occasion such as this go by without at least a bit of fuss.’
‘Can’t we?’
‘No.’ She finishes tying the other end. ‘I was going to use a red ribbon, but after what Ant and Dec said I thought white would be more appropriate.’
‘You don’t believe all this flower nonsense, do you?’ I ask. ‘That thing about Ant turning up after Dec got the flowers – that was just a coincidence.’
‘Albert Einstein once said: “Coincidence is God’s way of remaining anonymous.”’
‘Einstein said that? I thought he was all into science and stuff, not airy-fairy quotes.’
Amber pauses before she unbolts the door. ‘Einstein was a very clever man, Poppy. Do you know why?’
I shake my head.
‘He didn’t let his incredibly smart brain cloud his thinking on any subject. Instead, he allowed his super-intelligent mind to be opened up to a whole world of new possibilities,’ she says, sliding the bolt back. ‘Gosh, I hope you’re good at speeches!’
‘What do you mean?’ I ask as Amber flings open the door and I see a small crowd has formed on the cobbles outside the shop. ‘Oh fu— or goodness sake,’ I recover just in time, and put on my best welcoming voice. ‘I didn’t expect to see so many of you. Hello, welcome, how good of you all to come.’
The crowd look up expectantly as I dither in the doorway.
‘The ribbon, Poppy!’ I hear Jake shout from amongst them. ‘You need to cut the ribbon before we can come in.’
A pair of silver scissors miraculously appears over my left shoulder, courtesy of Amber.
‘Speech!’ Amber calls from behind me, trying to disguise her accent.
Cheers, Amber, I’ll get you for that later…
‘Right… well…’ I grin manically at the people in front of me. ‘Like I just said, thank you all for coming, I’m sure my grandmother would be very touched to see you all here.’ I hear someone mumble, ‘Probably turning in her grave, more like.’
I run my eyes over the sea of eager faces in front of me, but I can’t spot anyone who would have said that, so I carry on:
‘The shop wouldn’t be opening today without the help of many of you standing here right now. Jake Asher –’ I gesture towards him and Miley – ‘the ladies of the St Felix Women’s Guild –’ I wave quickly at Harriet, Willow and Beryl along with a few others. Then I notice that Caroline has joined them today, although she had been notably absent when we’d been setting up the shop. Then there’s Bronte and Charlie, Woody, Lou, Mickey, Belle, Rita and Richie from the Merry Mermaid, Ant and Dec and a few other shop owners from Harbour Street – even Father Claybourne the village priest is here. ‘Wow!’ I exclaim, taken aback at seeing them all standing here. ‘Actually, so many of you have been absolute stars at helping us out, Amber and I really couldn’t have done it without you all, honestly we couldn’t. So from the bottom of our hearts, thank you.’
I stare out into the crowd, and they look awkwardly back at me, and then at each other, wondering if I’ve finished or not, and whether they should applaud.
‘Ribbon, Poppy!’ Jake prompts helpfully. ‘Cut the ribbon!’
I jump. ‘Yes! The ribbon, of course!’ I place the blades of the scissors either side of the white ribbon. ‘So, without further ado, I would like to declare the all-new Daisy Chain flower shop well and truly open!’
I cut through the ribbon, and as the two pieces fall to either side there’s a polite round of applause. Then I stand back and accept their congratulations as one by one the people of St Felix – for that’s who all these early visitors are – enter the shop, exclaiming with joy how pretty it is, how much it’s changed, and how proud Rose would be to see it up and running once more.
‘Well done, Poppy!’ Lou says as she munches on a cupcake decorated with a daisy. ‘Rose would be delighted to see this, and very proud of you for making it happen.’
‘It wasn’t just me,’ I insist, waving my hand in front of my face to get some air. Is it really that hot in here? No one else seems to think so. ‘I couldn’t have done it without everyone’s help – especially Amber and Jake.’ I look towards the shop door, wondering if we should prop it open, but I find it’s already open as people continue to pour in.
‘Did I hear my name?’ Jake calls, weaving his way through the crowd towards us. ‘I was just looking for Miley, but she’s happy over there handing out posies for Amber.’
I look over to the desk and see Miley passing Amber’s mini posies out to everyone, whether they want one or not. I turn and smile at Jake. ‘I was saying how I couldn’t have opened the shop up like this without your and Amber’s help.’
Jake smiles at me, and then for some bizarre reason I feel the need to reach up and kiss him on the cheek. ‘Thank you,’ I whisper.
He stares at me for a moment. ‘Not a problem,’ he says quietly, still looking at me. Then he clears his throat. ‘So, that was quite a speech you gave out there – you seem to have lost your fear of speaking to people.’
‘What do you mean? I’m not afraid of speaking to people. I just —’
‘Yeah, yeah, you just prefer being on your own. I remember.’
He winks and I want to glare at him, but I can’t. Instead I find myself smiling wryly as I gaze up into his kind, thoughtful eyes.
We get jostled and separated as the shop continues to fill with people, and I wonder as I watch Jake take up polite conversation with Harriet if the townsfolk’s interest has been piqued by the thought of a new florist on Harbour Street, or more likely by the smell of a free cupcake.
I’m aware as I stand here, continuing to greet people like a bride on her wedding day, with a polite word of thanks and a smile, that I’m getting hotter by the minute. I’m aware that it’s happening again, and if I don’t do something to rectify the situation very soon I’m going to be in big trouble.
I look around the shop as yet another person squeezes inside; Amber seems to be in her element, showing off our new shop. She looks gorgeous in her outfit, a long, flowing green velvet dress, with graceful bell-shaped sleeves edged with gold. With her long auburn tresses cascading down over her shoulders, she’s almost fairy-like as she flits around the shop amongst all the flowers.
The flowers.
There are just too many of them in here today. When Jake began unloading them early this morning, I’d almost fainted there and then at the sight and intense sweet smell that greeted me when he opened the back doors of his van.
Over the years, I’d learned to deal with seeing a few flowers provided it was just a few at a time. I could handle seeing the odd bunch outside a petrol station, in a vase in someone’s home – that kind of minor floral exposure didn’t faze me at all, as long as there weren’t too many roses. And while they weren’t my favourite places, I’d coped with visiting the odd florist’s shop when I had to – with my family, I didn’t have a lot of choice.
It hadn’t been easy, but I’d managed to deal with my issues with flowers in my own way, and as a result I’d thought, perhaps na?vely, I was going to be able to deal with this.
That was one of the reasons I’d wanted the shop to sell floral merchandise as well as real flowers; I thought the less fresh flowers we had in here at one time, the easier it might be for me. When Jake had unloaded his van this morning we’d been standing outside, so I was able to take a deep breath of the sea breeze wafting up Harbour Street. Perhaps a few gulps of salty air would quash the nausea that was beginning to overwhelm me now.
Slowly I edge towards the door. As I do, the room begins to spin, and all the chattering voices seem to blend into one. The scent of the flowers is overpowering with this many people squeezed in here, and I can pick out the scent of the roses so easily they might as well be the only flower in here…
Panic sets in as I realise I’m stuck in an enclosed space full of flowers and people, my two worst nightmares… My throat feels tight, my head’s spinning, and I can’t breathe. So I throw myself through the door, out on to the cobbles outside.
As I begin to gulp in long, deep, healing breaths of sea air, I still feel a little dizzy, as if I might faint, so I hold on to the doorframe for support.
‘Don’t you like crowds?’
The voice makes me jump. It’s Charlie, Jake’s son. He’s leaning against the shop window, watching everything that’s going on inside with a disinterested look on his face.
‘No, not any more,’ I reply, turning to face him. ‘Do you?’
He shrugs. ‘Nah, never have. Bronte’s always trying to get me to take her to these concerts, up in Bristol – mosh-pit jobs. Dad won’t let her go on her own. But I can’t see the fascination myself. Who wants to be squashed into a tiny space with a load of drunks for hours on end with nowhere to pee and everyone smelling of BO? Not my idea of fun.’
‘You sound like my brother,’ I tell him, as another familiar, unpleasant feeling begins to build inside me. ‘He never liked those sort of gigs either.’
‘Sensible fella,’ Charlie says, putting his hands into his pockets and turning so his back is against the window.
‘Yes,’ I say, thinking about Will. ‘He was.’
Charlie briefly turns his head to look at me, but doesn’t ask any further questions. And I like him all the more for that.
‘You gonna go back in?’ he asks, with a nod in the direction of the shop.
I shake my head. ‘Not right now.’
‘Probably best, looking at the state of you,’ Charlie says. ‘You’re mighty white. You wanna go for a walk – get some air?’
‘I would love to.’ I smile gratefully. ‘But it’s my shop, I can’t just leave everyone.’
‘Ah…’ Charlie says knowingly. ‘And there was me thinking you were a bit of a rebel with your black clothes and your Docs ’n’ all.’
I stare at him. ‘Say that again.’
He looks puzzled. ‘Which part? About your Docs?’
I shake my head.
‘Oh… about you being a rebel?’ He grins. ‘So you are one then?’
I glance into the shop, and amongst all the people I can just make out my grandmother’s wooden desk, and for a brief moment I’m transported back in time…
‘Charlie Asher, you’re about to find out.’